Confusion, Emptiness and Thanks in the Snow
by VIVIANVAMPYRIC
Summary: LAMBO THREE PART ONE SHOT. Nobody would've guessed that Lambo lived a hard life, but even cows have worries.
1. Confusion

_Confusion

* * *

_

It was a slow Italian day. Fat snowflakes floated lazily from the sky, like bright white paint splotches against a grey canvas. The rolling hills were covered in the snow, the rustling wind carrying the powder sugar through the crisp winter air. Kids dotted the side of the hills, their backs pressed against the fluff, moving their arms up and down crazily, hoping for the best snow angel. Lambo was no different from the other children, pulling another child up the hill with some difficulty behind him in a nostalgic red sled.

"Tasso, why are you so fat?" Lambo exclaimed, his cheeks turning pink with exertion. His body was encased in a white puffy jacket with black splotches littered across its nylon shell, covered in a coating of Polyurethane, keeping his jacket waterproof and virtually indestructible. Bouncing up and down in the sled behind Lambo was his mirror image, clad in a brown puffy jacket. A hood was pulled over his head, with fur and afro framing his flushed cheeks. "Tasso," Lambo started up again, before reaching the top of the hill. "Maybe you should quit eating the takoyaki and give me more!" He exclaimed, with an explosion of triumphant laughter. He stood akimbo on top of the hill, with his gloved hands resting on his hips, where his black snow pants were pulled way above his belly button: the picture of an overprotective mother.

Laughter echoed from Tasso's lips. "As if, Lambo!" He giggled, waving at his mother, who sat in the kitchen of their cozy cottage, keeping a watchful eye on the kids. The petite brunette waved back at them, with a smile touching her soft pink lips – a sight both the kids smiled at. It was funny how a simple upturn of the mouth could raise their spirits, or in this case, encourage them to toboggan down the slope with more fervor than the previous times.

"Tasso, it's _your_ turn to pull the sled now," Lambo insisted breathlessly, his chest heaving up and down in exhaustion. "I've been doing it for the past five hundred thousand billion times already!" He whined, dropping the rope that was attached to the sled.

"Oh, one more time, Lambo!" The other Bovino pleaded, before Lambo shook his head. Tasso's begging quickly turned into angry pestering, which only made Lambo more frustrated. "No," he repeated. "No!"

"But, Lambo, please!"

"I said no, you stupid cow!"

Tasso's clear blue eyes narrowed, and in an instant, the child clad in brown was on top of Lambo. The two figures rolled around in the snow, fighting for dominance. Outraged shouts and grunts filled the air, before Lambo finally broke free from his twin. In a split second, he ran into the house, slamming the door behind him. A look of concern crossed their mother's face.

"What's wrong Lambo?" She asked, before Tasso ran in, jumping on Lambo again.

"Mom's gonna send you away! You're being mean to me! She said she was gonna send you away! So you'd _better_ be nice to me!" Tasso threatened, before the small brunette lifted her son up by the hood. Slightly pale, she gave him a tight-lipped stare.

"You'd better be nice to Lambo, Tasso. I saw him, trudging up that huge hill pulling you up the sled. Go to your room for time-out," she said, in a commanding voice.

"But mom-!"

"Go," she repeated before dropping him back onto his feet and turning back to Lambo. The damage was already done. Lambo sat on the ground looking up at him mom with a confused look on his precious face.

"Why're you sending me away, mom? Don't you love me? Why? Why are you sending me away?" He asked, his bottom lip trembling before tears flowed down his face. "Why? Why! Why…?"

"Lambo, Lambo. Nobody's sending you away." A soft voice said, his large, brown eyes peering down at the Bovino Mafioso.

"He's been like that all night," a woman's voice murmured, brushing a hand through Lambo's curly hair. "Tsuna, can't you do anything?"

"I can't. He won't wake up, Haru," the boy said, a look of concern touching his features. The child rested beneath the covers with a look of worry and confusion on his face.

"_Why did you send me away?" _

Outside, the wind blew furiously, a monster fighting to get inside the house. The snow whipped against the window panes.


	2. Emptiness

Emptiness

* * *

He couldn't help himself, couldn't prevent the hatred from bubbling up deep within him. They'd left him like this, shipped him over to Japan like a broken porcelain doll that nobody wanted. He was stuck in a limbo, an adult, jammed between his childhood and teenage years.

He walked from school to his run-down apartment. His pace was slow, and instead of a cute girl walking next to him, he trudged alone in the snow. A bleak life, this was. School, work and sleep. I-Pin filled in the spaces in between – she knew how much he needed her. Unfortunately, she was at the ramen store tonight, so the walk was relatively quiet. White ear-buds were shoved into his ear canals, blocking out all the noise the environment provided.

He was better off in Italy. With more than just a singular friend, with more than just cold rice in his empty fridge, in his emptier apartment – he deserved more. Damnit, he deserved to be surrounded by cute women, women who wore dangly, delicate earrings, not constantly chided by some Chinese girl with her hair in plaits. Immediately after that thought, he turned red with guilt. I-Pin was the best thing to happen to him, the only thing that kept him in line, the only thing that kept him (relatively) positive.

"I could at least go for some takoyaki," he muttered to himself, not fond of the idea of eating leftovers AGAIN. Perhaps it would always be difficult for him to abandon his childish tendencies for good.

He meandered up the steps of his apartment building, counting the steps to the fourth floor. A squeak sounded between every number in his head, in a rhythmic sort of way. Sixty, squeak, sixty-one, squeak, sixty-two, squeak. He trudged to the door labeled B and unlocked the metal gate – a moot point since jostling it would've been a much easier way to open it – and unlocked the sturdy oak door behind it. The door swung open after a couple hard turns on the doorknob to reveal a sparsely furnished living room. In the corner was a small TV, and in front of it sat a grey, worn leather couch and a felt-topped card table – perfect for a late night snack or ramen noodles.

All of a sudden, he remembered that the eating of leftovers had to be postponed. He was working the late shift at a sushi bar a couple of blocks down. The realization was always a bittersweet one, a fight between physical exhaustion, food and money.

Food and money always won. On his shift, he always made sure to eat as much as he could, so he'd be satiated by next morning. So what if he was a little tired at school the next day? The job helped pay his bills and put food on the table. Funny, those clichés were used for those much older than his ripe seventeen.

Lambo swiftly moved from his living room to the bedroom. In one deft movement, he fell forward and fell into a deep sleep…

In a couple of hours, his green eyes opened hazily. Perfect. Just in time for work…

He stood up quickly and brought his hand to his forehead, a dizzy rush hitting him suddenly. After recovering, he stripped off his green V neck to replace it hurriedly with a white button-up shirt. His right arm crossed the front of his body to massage a stiff shoulder.

Wincing slightly at a knot, he shot a glance at his clock and decided it was time to get going. Too bad, the nap was absolutely lovely.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark washed jeans, he brushed his other hand through his black, shaggy hair. Freshening up: done. He pulled on his thick winter jacket and glanced at his reflection through a mirror.

Admittedly, this wasn't the life he'd always imagined, but it was still his. Fuck it, really.

He heaved a sigh before walking out the door and slamming it behind him.

As he walked down the stairs, his footsteps echoed through the hallways before fading into the sound of blowing snow.


End file.
